


Love Couldn't Care Less

by ufp13



Series: hooker!verse [2]
Category: Nola (2003)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-11
Updated: 2012-07-11
Packaged: 2017-11-09 15:10:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/456886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ufp13/pseuds/ufp13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leo takes her to meet his friends...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Couldn't Care Less

As they entered the bar, her grip on his hand tightened. While she showed no further outward signs of discomfort, a torrent of distress boiled within her. It had been months since they had hooked up again, and this time, they were both in for the real deal. Despite some bumps on the road, despite having to get used to the situation of being together, the time had been a happy one; they were happy. His friends, however, seemed to disapprove of his choice of woman. Nonetheless, they had invited her along with him to a relaxing evening in their favourite bar – if only because he obviously cared.

She had tried to think of reasons why she couldn’t accompany him, but to no avail. She was the woman at his side, his woman he had stated, and he didn’t care what others thought. The sincerity with which he had spoken had earned him a long, deep kiss as well as the loss of most of his clothes in the middle of the kitchen. Later, still panting, he had joked he should tell her more often if it got him that. She had only slapped him playfully on the arm in answer, the arm with which he guided her through the crowd now. Although she would never admit it to anyone else, she secretly loved being his woman, loved being possessed by a man who guarded his possession closely, and when it came to her, Leo proved that he had earned his nickname. Yet, even sure of his love, she was apprehensive to face, to meet his friends.

When they neared the table where the rest of the group was already waiting for them, she knew her fear had at least some merit. The glances the people, his friends, shot her radiated disapproval, told her that she was considered unworthy, lowly. Leo must have noticed this too, for he squeezed her hand and gave her a loving, encouraging smile. Yes, he stood by her side.

Polite yet reserved, almost cold was the greeting she received. Personally, she was used to this kind of treatment; actually had experienced worse over the years. As old as her line of work was as old was its bad reputation. Even nowadays people still regarded those who had a job in the milieu of paid love as lowly creatures, as criminals, as people without moral or dignity. She had long since learned to ignore such comments or looks, had given up on trying to educate people, to change their opinion, to disprove their preconceptions. However, it pained her for Leo, and for the first time since what seemed like forever, she felt something comparable to shame because of her (former) occupation. She knew he didn’t care, but she was overcome by the silly urge to be perfect for him, worthy of him, to be accepted by his friends. If he could have heard her thoughts, he would have admonished her for even thinking them before telling her that she was perfect for him, to him, and that his opinion was the only important one in this regard.

Being a stranger to this group of now eight and feeling like an intruder, she stayed out of the conversation for the most part, only answering questions directed at her. Frequently, Leo’s hand sought out her knee in reassurance – a contact she was grateful for, one that let her endure the constant judging looks with a smile. After some time though, she had enough, couldn’t stand it anymore, so she excused herself to the restroom.

With a sad longing, Leo watched his woman leave. He was well aware that she needed to get away, to catch her breath; his friends, while not openly attacking her, were giving her a hard time. As soon as Margaret was out of earshot, they bombed him with raised eyebrows, questions and accusations.

“You lost a bet again or your mind?!” Paul shot first.

“Clearly his mind,” Sandra chimed in.

“No, must be a bet,” Will disagreed. “He needs his mind for the job’s doing so successfully.”

Leo growled. “Stop it.”

“Seriously, Leo, when are you going to dump her again?”

“Not at all.”

“Stop kidding us here, you had your fun.”

“Let me make this clear. I have no intention to drop Margaret any time soon.”

“Are you that desperate that you have to hook up with an old prostitute?” Carl mocked. The glance Leo shot him in response was nothing short of deadly, but he either didn’t notice or chose to ignore it and went on. “You should have kept Linda. She was cute and not stupid. She didn’t need to let men fuck her for money because that’s all she knew.”

“Or Paula,” Sandra suggested. “She suited you and your tastes. Really, what does that whore pay you for staying with her?”

“Making this mistake once is excusable, but twice?! What are you thinking?!”

Anger rose to enormous heights within Leo. He had known his friends to be opinionated; however, this level of insult he had never experienced before. Margaret didn’t deserve this. She was intelligent, caring and worth a lot more than the young blondes they had mentioned.

“I bet in two weeks the whore will be history.”

“Two? That long?” Anne snorted.

“Right. Make that one. Although, he got soft and tends to let them down slowly.”

“Not that she’d deserve that.”

Looking around for something to focus on to keep himself from exploding, Leo’s eyes discovered Margaret standing near the restrooms. To him, she was a picture of insecurity and dread. When he saw her taking a deep breath, stealing herself for another round before joining them again, he knew she would suffer through this for him without complaint or a bad word, but he couldn’t do that to her. Forcefully, he pushed his chair back. “Stop insulting the woman I love,” he growled while getting up.

Suddenly speechless at his abrupt declaration, the six stared open-mouthed as Leo strode over to his woman.

The predatory expression on Leo’s face as he neared her rooted Margaret to the spot. She knew the look, it made her weak-kneed, but she never expected to see it in a place as public as a crowded bar. Before she could voice a question, though, or react in any other way, he reeled her into his arms and claimed her lips in a possessive, passionate kiss that took her breath away. His tongue pushed past her lips, nudged hers in an invitation to dance, an invitation she couldn’t decline. Tongues wrapped around each other, lips moving, caressing, one of his hands on her back, the other grabbing her ass, her fingers buried in his hair, holding him close, playing with the short hair at his neck, they were oblivious to their surroundings, especially to the surprised, the shocked looks of his friends who couldn’t believe what they were seeing, couldn’t believe that Leo was doing that, that he was really serious about this woman. But he was. He so was. He couldn’t be more serious at the moment.

During the discussion of his friends, he had worked up quite some steam he needed to let off. While strangling one of them might have done the deed, he had a more entertaining, more pleasurable way in mind, not that it was easy to think of anything else with Margaret’s curves pressed against his body, with her moaning and humming into his mouth. The feeling of her, the sounds, never failed to excite him, to turn him on.

A thrill washed over her body as she felt him harden against her. It intensified when he started steering her into the direction of the restroom, his lips parting with hers to rail along her jaw and neck to feast on her pulse point in a way that would surely leave a mark. She didn’t resist, let him lead her into the restroom, into the nearest stall where he pressed her against the wall in the same motion he locked the door.

Loudly, she moaned out upon the sudden coldness of the tiles seeping through her blouse, but Leo’s lips recapturing hers muted the sound very soon while his hands kneaded her breasts through the fabric of her clothes and his pelvis rubbed against hers. In a short time, though, he became frustrated at the barriers their clothes presented, hers especially.

“I need to see you, babe,” he breathed into her ear, his voice thick with desire. “Need to feel you.” He started to nimbly unbutton her blouse as far as necessary to reach inside, to bare her breasts over the cups of her bra.

Driven by a similar need, she returned the favour by tugging his shirt from his pants, running her hands over his torso, chest and back. The movement of her hands came to a halt, though, when he latched onto a nipple and suckled it hard. Her moans encouraged him to increase his ministrations. He loved to hear her and told her so.

They were both vocal lovers in their own right – she moaned her enjoyment, he liked to talk, to encourage, to praise his lover, to make love to her with words as well as with his body. To his joy, Margaret was a receptive recipient, she reacted easily to his words. From time to time, he used this power to tease her, to turn her on in the middle of the street by murmuring explicit descriptions only for her to hear. Usually, they soon made their way home in result and ended up on or against the next surface as soon as the door was closed behind them, not dissimilar to their current situation. Kissing his way back up, he nibbled on her earlobe. “God, babe, you make me all hot.” He pushed his groin against her to emphasize his point. “You feel so good… I love the feeling of your boobs in my hands.” He kneaded the assets in question, flicking his finger over her nipples.

“Leooo…” Full of longing and frustration was her voice while she impatiently tugged on his belt. She wanted more, wanted all, wanted it now.

“So hot.” He ran his hands down her sides to her waistline. “So wanting.” The button of her pants was undone. “So sexy.” Her zipper was lowered and the soft material slid to the floor. “So wet.” His finger tips trailed over the crotch of her panties… “So ready.” …pushed it aside… “And mine.” …and, without any warning, any delay, he pushed into her wetness. Her body reacted instantly to the sudden intrusion, shaking in pleasure, releasing an appreciative moan that echoed from the walls of the small room. Curling and uncurling his fingers in her again and again while rubbing her clitoris with his thumb, he reduced her to writhing and incoherent sounds of lust, her hands holding onto his trousers as if she feared to fly away any instant.

He knew her body, knew it well – too well according to her, but he disagreed. Right now, his knowledge told him that she was close to orgasm, that it wouldn’t take much to make her come; however, he wanted to see her in this keyed up state a bit longer. Lots of times, he liked to keep her on the edge simply to enjoy the sight of her desire-flushed body, those sensual lips parted in a moan, eyes either closed in expectation or staring at him in demand, in frustration, her chest heaving, providing a lovely display of her breasts. At the moment, her green eyes were fixed on him, asking what was taking him so fucking long, why he didn’t give what he promised, what he knew she wanted, needed. The expression was endearing, irresistible actually, so he curled his fingers inside of her in a forceful motion while applying more pressure to her clitoris. It didn’t take more. Her eyes fell shut and her face turned into a picture of pleasure, satisfaction and relief, relaxation. She exhaled deeply as her form continued to tremble. The sight of her in this state of sexual high reminded him painfully of his own arousal. Swiftly, he freed his erection from the confining garments and, without giving her any time to catch herself, to calm down, pushed into her. At the unexpectedly sudden intrusion, she cried out – not in pain, but in surprise and pleasure.

To give him better access, she slipped one foot out of the clothes pooling around it as well as out of her shoe and propped it up on the toilet, opening herself further to him. Instantly making good use of her change of posture, he pushed deeper into her, groaning at the delicious feeling of her tight wetness surrounding him.

“God, babe, you feel good,” he husked, his breathing laboured, his hips colliding with hers again and again in a fast, hard and somewhat unsteady rhythm.

The flash of the creamy skin of her throat when she arched into him caught his attention, called out for him. Unable to resist the wordless begging only he was aware of, he buried one of his hands in her tangled, brown strands, gripped them hard and pulled her head back to bare her neck for his mouth to feast on. “Mine.” One word growled with such fervour that she could only whimper in willing surrender, could only corroborate his ownership.

Feeling him, his power, his power over her in various places at once drove her mind further away from her body, leaving only sensation behind. His hand in her hair, his mouth on her skin, his cock in her, she was completely enveloped by him and felt like flying away any second. The desire he harboured for her and expressed so openly, so fiercely amazed her, blew her away time and again; coupled with the possessiveness he oozed unconsciously, displayed purposefully, it was intoxicating. Never had she thought belonging to someone could feel this good, this right; but with him, it did. He completed her emotionally, mentally and – yessss, she met his hips in a hard, deep thrust – physically. Ironic as it sounded, he had freed her sexually, had taught her to enjoy it. Before him, she couldn’t have imagined fucking – and vocally at that – in a more or less public restroom – too close to the cheap whore reputation she wanted to divest herself of. However, he made her forget such associations, made her forget everything but them, taught her to not give a shit about what others thought of them, their doing as long as they both enjoyed it. And enjoying herself she did. Judging by the shudder that ripped through his body, so did he.

She grabbed his ass firmly, trying to push him impossibly nearer to her as she clenched her inner walls around his hard length. His movements became more erratic, his thrusts harder, faster, shorter just like his breathing. Moments later, his member started to pulsate, and he came forcefully, spilling his seed into her. While he groaned in release, she continued riding him, rubbing herself against him, seeking more stimulation to reach the oh so near bliss again. However, unable to find the right angle, the right pressure this way, she let go of him and used her hand to drive herself into sweet oblivion.

Leo’s eyes which had closed in indulgence opened again when he felt her contract around him. The sight of Margaret in the surges of passion was something he could never ignore, never deny himself – he had gone without it for too long. Now he savoured every time, despite making sure they were multitudinous, to capture all the nuances of her expression, to brand it to his memory for a time he might have to go without it, without her; not to mention that it made for nice dreams. So he forced his eyes to stay open, fixed on her face, on those sensual lips, the closed eyes that radiated pleasure but vulnerability as well, on the light blush of her cheeks. Her surrender to her passion, the way she let herself be unguarded, her emotions bare, was incredibly sexy. It touched something deep inside him to see this strong woman vulnerable in his arms.

“So sexy. So beautiful.” He planted feathery kisses along her jaw. She smiled softly, tired but happy. Bonelessness started to flood her body, took her strength so she sacked against the wall, had to rely on his arms to keep her upright.

“Got you, babe,” he whispered lovingly.

“Thank you,” she breathed back.

A grin spread on his face. “My pleasure.”

Weakly, she slapped him on the ass. “I certainly hope so.”

“Always, you amazing woman, always.” After a soft, long kiss, he reluctantly separated from her.

Helping each other, they straightened their clothes in the surprisingly small space. Lots of mirth accompanied the process as they occasionally bumped against the other, against a wall.

“My make-up must be a mess,” she groaned when they parted from a last passionate, deep kiss before facing the rest of the world again.

“Somewhat,” he snickered and wiped some smeared lipstick from her lower cheek.

“Mirror.” She unlocked the door and strode unerringly to the object in question. “God, I am a mess.” Critically, she inspected herself, especially her face in the mirror.

“I wouldn’t say that.” Leo wrapped his arms loosely around her from behind, looking at her reflection as well. She raised an eyebrow in doubt. “I would call it well-fucked, and I like that look on you. It suits you.” As always, his cocky grin caused a mix of emotions, urges within her; she was torn between throttling him and kissing him. This time, she settled for simply rolling her eyes before trying to salvage her make-up while Leo nuzzled her neck through her hair, an action that was very distracting.

“Lionel.” A warning. A demand.

“Yes, babe?” His tone was teasing, mocking.

“Stop it,” she growled.

“Your own fault for being so delectable,” he protested but released her, stepping back and righting his hair by running his hands through it. “Ready to go?” He held out his hand to her.

She took a deep breath. “As I’ll ever be.”

“Don’t worry, I’m here.”

With a thankful smile, she took his hand.

Ignoring the partly questioning, partly deadly look of the woman entering the restroom, they left it and returned to the table were his friends were still sitting, lost in what seemed to be a serious discussion.

From the corner of his eye, Paul saw Leo and Margaret nearing, hand in hand, Leo sporting his “I just got lucky”-face. He said something, and by the time the two reached the table, silence ruled the round. Neither Leo nor Margaret made any efforts to change that. While she grabbed her handbag, he put some money on the table.

Anne was the first one to find her voice just when they had already taken two steps into the direction of the exit. “Leo?”

He halted and turned around partly whereas Margaret stopped with him but kept facing the door.

Anne searched his eyes. “I’m sorry.” Sincerity governed her tone.

“We are,” Will corrected, added.

Leo nodded. “Give me some time. I’ll get in touch.” He put a hand onto the small of Margaret’s back. “Let’s get outta here.”

= End =


End file.
